


Until We Meet Again

by marcoasensio



Category: Men's Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Angst, I don't know what I was thinking when I wrote this, M/M, Suicide, TW: Suicide, i felt emo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 23:47:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16670707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marcoasensio/pseuds/marcoasensio
Summary: “If I killed myself tonight, the stars would appear, the sun would still come out, the Earth would still rotate, the seasons would still change… so why not?” Sergio kills himself and everyone around him suffers. Loosely based on the tumblr post about raising awareness.A really short fic. Might add more chapters.





	Until We Meet Again

**Author's Note:**

> This might be a multichapter fic. Emphasis on might. I might add some more characters' perspectives, like Sergio's brother and other friends (Cris?? Marce?? Fernando?? Gerard?? I don't know which). 
> 
> It's lowkey depressing, I guess?

When Iker first heard of the news from Sergio's brother Rene, he didn't react. He didn't scream or cry or break down- not even a violent outburst, like everyone expected. He could only think of his car, a '90s Prius. A gift from his father for Christmas just a few years back. He could only think of that car.

The car where they shared their first kiss. It had been a lonely night for Iker who decided to just drive; without a real destination, without a purpose, after his parents yelled and threw things around the house. He'd stared directly at his phone for fifteen minutes, doing nothing, contemplating on whether or not to disturb his friend, wake him up from his peaceful slumber at two in the morning.

He felt no control over his body when he clicked on Sergio's name. It took exactly four rings for Sergio to pick up, voice still husky from the sleep. Iker said nothing for the first few seconds, until absolutely everything came out right after. He'd been holding it in for far too long, he couldn't help it. He had to tell someone.

When he poured his heart out, Sergio understood. He understood because he's been in Iker's shoes, in his position. And when Iker leaned in to kiss him, he wasn't thinking straight, or logically, he was just thinking. Thinking and feeling. Thinking about his parents, and how they kept their feelings inside them for a long time, and how it resulted in endless fights and disputes and violence.

Iker didn't want that, he didn't want to keep his feelings locked inside. Thankfully, Sergio returned the kiss.

He could only think about that moment, in the car. How beautiful Sergio looked when the light from the moon reflected off his brown eyes. How soft his lips felt and how it tasted oddly like lemon, even though Sergio told him countless times, "I don't like lemons, Iker!" with that stupid smile of his.

"You're my home, Sergio," Iker whispered into the night- and the beautiful boy beside him.

Iker, again, feels no control as he walks out of his house and into the Prius, slumping down on the driver's seat, hands set on the steering wheel, knuckles whitening from the tight grip. Thinking. Thinking about what the hell drove Sergio into taking his own life. Was he unhappy? Is it, technically, Iker's fault for not noticing anything wrong with him, as the person who spends the most time with Sergio? What was going on in his mind when he took those pills and swallowed them whole from his own palm? Was he not thinking of the people who love him, who want him alive?

A flash of anger rushes through Iker towards Sergio for being selfish, because the terrible ache that's been clawing at his heart, eating him inside and out, won't go away. He cannot get rid of it. And Iker doesn't know what to do, because he's never felt this kind of pain before. An all-consuming, dominating pain. He turns to look at the empty car seat to his right, wishing Sergio is here to wash all the pain away and fill the air with his jokes and not-so-flattering rendition of every Flamenco music known to man- to hold Iker in his arms and comfort him.

He steps on the gas pedal, car speeding away as quick as the tears that threatened to pour out of his glassy eyes. This time, he doesn't know where- or who- to come home to.


End file.
